Gemotions

"More coffee?" Mrs. Petrovich offered, her voice unusually subdued. Arthur swallowed hard, looking away from the rising fence. He knew it was the right thing, to allow Mr. Davis his privacy, after all the recent break-ins. Still, the thought of the children next door, unable to easily access his backyard, pricked at him.

He felt a distinct unease, like a stone lodged in his gut. He hadn't spoken up, even when he could have. He knew the fence would keep the bad guys out, but the warmth of shared laughter, the games of tag, would be gone now.

He felt a need to do *something*. He offered to trim Mr. Davis's hedges and kept staring intently at the ground.